


Morning People

by agentx13 (rebelle_elle)



Category: Marvel
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2719433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelle_elle/pseuds/agentx13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a Steve/Sharon prompt. The morning after the first time they sleep together, Steve finds out Sharon really, really isn't a morning person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning People

Steve smiled down at her as he sipped his coffee. She looked beautiful. And yes, he was biased. She was sleeping in his bed after their first night together, and if that wasn’t enough to make him think she was beautiful, then the mussed hair and last night’s makeup would have done it. Not to mention how he knew she was bare beneath the sheets.

She was beautiful, and it seemed to him that everything was beautiful. The sunlight that had already burned away the fog was beautiful. The way the light filled the room was beautiful.

And she was missing it.

"Sharon." His voice was quiet and yet still far too loud in the silence. "It’s almost nine."

There was a faint sound that he was almost certain came from her, a deep and echoing groan of protest.

"Sharon?" Louder now.

The groan that came in response was louder, too.

"It’s almost nine. Time to get up."

Her hand snaked around on the bed, finally finding the pillow and pulling it over her head. “Nn.”

He grinned. He’d never seen her like this before, and he loved seeing new aspects of her. “I brought coffee.”

She didn’t answer right away, but after a long stretch, the pillow shifted enough for her to talk. “Leave it. Go on without me.”

He chuckled, and her bleary-eyed glare from beneath the pillow only made him chuckle harder. “Not a morning person?”

"Fuck you," she said. There was no venom to her words despite her sarcasm.

He still didn’t mind. She was still beautiful. He still thought she made everything else beautiful. She was still in his bed, and he still liked her there. “Only if you help me.”

He watched as she tried to suppress her grin and failed. She crooked her finger, and he smiled and set their coffees on the bedside table. He could always make a fresh pot later, he decided as he climbed onto the bed. He could make a fresh pot at any hour any day if it meant waking up next to her. It really was a beautiful morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Got an anonymous prompt and loved it, so I wanted to share!


End file.
